Halloween Hijinks
by morning's-broken-angel
Summary: Lisbon agreed to make him a superhero costume for Halloween, and in return, Jane decided he'd get her one as well. Tinker Bell was just so apropos, after all. *Fits in the Vermilion Revelations 'verse* Gift fic for Ebony10.
1. Chapter 1

A/N: Okay, so I totally whored out my own fic to **Ebony10** in exchange for her extended version of a chapter from her very lovely 30SoR series (the fic is called '_Boxers, Briefs and Finish Lines_,' so go. Shoo. Read and review it, because it was absolutely a blast.). In return, I promised to dish up Halloween and the payout from Jane and Lisbon's midnight conversation in '_Vermilion Revelations_,' but you should be able to follow this without the backstory. Sure, dealing my fic like smack is shameful, but I really, really wanted to read that fic continuation... what can I say? I'm weak. :)

Also, I completely refuse to either confirm or deny whether VR will go this route (yes, because I'm evil).

* * *

Jane carefully drew a small green dot in the corner of the date marked October 1st on the previously unused calendar on his mostly unused desk, grinning the entire time.

---

It had been a long day, and it was only 1:00 pm. Well, 12:57, which meant Lisbon had a whole three minutes of lunch left. Not like it mattered. Nothing worthwhile could happen in three minutes, she thought, wiping a tired hand over her grainy, tired eyes. God, what she wouldn't give to be able to go home, take a bubble bath and open the bottle of wine she had in the fridge. Instead, she opened her file cabinet with a sigh. Paperwork to do, and lots of it. Jane had been a bad influence on the team.

"What the-" She stared at the neatly folded tissue paper resting on top of the file she'd been working on before she'd gone to lunch with Van Pelt. Poking it with a cautious finger, she glanced around, half-expecting someone to pop out from behind her chair yelling 'Surprise!'. Exactly three seconds later, her bellowed 'Jane!' could be heard all the way up by Minelli's office.

And on the couch, Jane smiled. She'd found the first part of her costume, apparently.

He did hope she was a 32C. That sparkly bra was precisely the shade of emerald he'd been looking for… Something smacked him in the face.

"And what the hell is _that_?" Lisbon snarled, looming over him with an expression that he could truly term murderous.

Knowing better than to hold it up for examination, which really might result in Lisbon trying to kill him, Jane tucked the scrap of green fabric into his pocket before sitting up. "Part of your costume, Lisbon. Or have you forgotten?"

The look she gave him should have fried him on the spot. "I haven't even given you your costume yet, so why are you leaving me little hooker Tinker Bell presents, Jane?" She looked around to make sure no one was listening. The team had wisely, in her opinion, adjourned to the kitchen for some coffee. "If this is your idea of a joke, I'm going to knock your teeth out one by one and use them to-"

He held up his hands placatingly. "Easy there, killer. It's not a joke. I just thought that buying you a costume meant an entire costume." Jane gave her his best wide-eyed innocent face. "Trust me, Lisbon. You'd be more upset realizing you had no, uh, support garments that fit under the costume than getting this."

"You can't buy me lingerie," she protested, feeling her face flare bright red. "It's… it's…"

Jane smiled encouragingly. "It's what?"

She wanted to wring his neck, the irritating, purposely provoking _idiot_. "Oh, I don't know," she drawled, her voice low and biting. "Wrong? Improper? Creepy? Come on, Jane, I can go all afternoon here. Buying your boss a br- this thing is not okay. Even you know that." Shaking her head, she stalked back to her office.

And when she gathered her briefcase to go home that night, she noticed a flash of green sparkle inside. She was going to murder that man.

---

October 8th. Gleefully, Jane scuttled around on the couch so he could have a better view of Lisbon's door. The flutter of anticipation in his belly was remarkably similar to that of a child on Christmas Eve. This costume exchange was strangely exciting; he found that he spent more time imagining Lisbon's reactions to things than he actually did examining the items he shopped for, a phenomenon that had annoyed the majority of the saleswomen that tried to help him.

---

It was a fact that she would never admit, even under torture- last Friday, when she'd gotten home, the first thing Lisbon had done was try on the green bra. Standing in front of her bathroom mirror, she was forced to admit three things:

1. Jane was an absurdly good appraiser of bra size. The damned thing fit like a dream.

2. The deep blueish-green was a killer color on her skin. She'd vowed right then and there to look for a blouse in that color for her occasional dates.

3. It was, without question, the sexiest bra she owned. It was a sad statement that her most provocative piece of lingerie came from a co-worker.

And God help her if she got killed today, because she was wearing the damned thing now. She'd resisted it the entire work week, but Friday morning, when she'd pulled out a nice green shirt, she couldn't help but select the bra.

So she accepted it as some sort of twisted karmic joke when she walked in and found a honey blonde wig with bangs and a carefully created bun hanging from the coat rack in her office. Well, at least it wasn't panties.

Glancing out through the blinds on her door, she noticed Jane laying the opposite way on the couch as he usually did. The insufferable man was practically vibrating with anticipation, a fact she could see clear from her door. So he wanted a reaction, did he? Tough.

But by five-fifty, almost a full hour after she'd told him he could go home, Jane was still finding reasons not to leave for the day yet. He'd even volunteered to help Cho review and re-log case files from the state audit. Lisbon snickered. He was sitting at his desk, holding a highlighter, for God's sake.

"All right, you two, I'm headed out. Don't stay too late," she warned, slipping her coat on as she stuck her head into the bullpen. "Goodnight." Jane's face was priceless- even now, with her seconds from walking out, he looked like he was on tenterhooks.

Sitting in her car, she looked at the blonde wig in her briefcase. She turned up the heat, fiddled with the radio and looked back at the building. "Oh, the hell with it," Lisbon muttered.

Jane was crushed. He'd been hoping for some reaction from Lisbon, even just a comment about her wig, but she hadn't given him a single crumb, which was an answer in itself, he knew. Well, he'd finish up the file he'd offered to review for Cho and call it a night. The sound of Cho's cell ringing barely intruded on his consciousness.

"Jane." Cho hung up the phone. "Jane. Hey, man, anyone home?"

He looked up. "Sorry, I was thinking. What can I do for you?"

Shaking his head, Cho picked up a file. "Message for you. Look out the window."

The sight that greeted him was comical- Lisbon, sitting in her beat-up Chevy Blazer, wearing her wig and grinning. It felt like a breath he hadn't known he'd been holding released in his chest. He waved, beaming like an idiot.

Lisbon roared off, a warm feeling in her stomach. And when she checked the text message on her phone at a red light, she laughed.

_'Never go blonde. It washes you out. –J'_

---

On October 15th, Jane made a concerted effort to be away from Lisbon, volunteering for every interview, every trip out of the office. After all, he wasn't an idiot.

---

He was a dead man.

After the Great Bra Incident of October 1st, as she thought of it, Lisbon didn't think there was anything else Jane could do that would embarrass her as much. The very thought of him in a lingerie store thinking whether a bra would fit or flatter her made her blush an alarming shade of red.

But now, of course, he'd gone seventeen steps over the line. Leave it to Patrick Jane to create the Ides of October.

The little black jeweler's box with its red bow had intrigued her. There were very few women that could resist a jeweler's box with their name on it- and she was not one. She'd expected a pin, or a necklace, or something small that would go with Tinker Bell's outfit. What Lisbon had not been expecting was a very small wad of emerald green silk.

Sitting in the bathroom stall, she glared at the box in her hand. She'd rushed to the restroom to actually take the fabric out, completely unwilling to risk the possibility of removing what she thought this gift was in a place where anyone else could possibly see her. With a deep breath, she snapped the box open again. Dammit.

She'd been right. Jane was completely incapable of understanding personal boundaries.

Panties. He'd bought her panties that were the precise shade of the bra. Goddammit.

Lisbon didn't know what she was feeling as she looked at the alarmingly small underwear in her hand. Numb, certainly, but there was a weird flutter in her belly that she refused to accept might be excitement. No, this was Jane. It must be embarrassment. The flutter was nothing more than acute embarrassment at the thought of Jane buying these, picturing her in them- oh God. There was no way she was wearing underwear Jane had held. Then she'd spend the entire Halloween party imagining very un-colleague like thoughts about his hands.

Deep breaths, Teresa. That's right, deep, slow breaths. Good girl.

When she exited the bathroom and walked purposefully towards Jane's couch to tell him in no uncertain terms that he'd gone over the line and had to stop, Lisbon frowned. His couch was empty. She glanced around. He'd been here two minutes ago when she'd headed for the ladies' room.

"Where's Jane?" she barked, sending Rigsby jumping in his chair.

"Uh, he left with Van Pelt, boss. Said he wanted to be there for the Nelson interview."

As Lisbon stalked away without a word, Rigsby frowned. "What'd I do?" he asked the almost empty room.

Cho snorted. "Don't ask. I think Jane and the boss are playing some weird sex game."

That comment had Rigsby's full attention. "Oh, come on," he scoffed, spinning his chair around to face Cho. "That's ridiculous."

Dry amusement colored his voice as Cho replied, "Think about it, man. Not so ridiculous now, is it?"

---

The 22nd of October dawned clear and cold, an aberration in the normally pleasant California autumn. It was magical, and reminded him of the crisp fall air of Indiana. As Jane walked into Lisbon's office with the box tucked carefully under his arm, he grinned. Boy, she'd really been angry about the underwear. Granted, he'd known that when he'd bought them and dismissed it. She'd have her little hissy fit, swear and yell at him if she could get him alone long enough to do so, but he'd been unable to resist.

After all, a deal was a deal. He'd bought her a Tinker Bell costume, a complete one. It wasn't his fault if she'd failed to specify the parameters of their deal before they shook on it.

---

When she discovered the carefully wrapped fairy wings on her chair, Lisbon's first reaction was relief. Wings weren't embarrassing. They didn't make her stomach tingle. They were just wings.

And so when she'd called Jane into her office as the team left for lunch, she'd propped a hip against her desk and waited.

"They're lovely," were his first words upon opening her door. "Particularly with that suit jacket and the gun on your belt. You could be the Law Enforcement Fairy."

Lisbon reached a hand over her shoulder to touch the opalescent fabric. "You know, I'm kind of partial to them myself."

He pushed the door open farther and waved at her. "Come on, Lisbon the Law Enforcement Fairy. Rigsby lost a bet with Van Pelt. He's paying for lunch today."

"Seriously?" She grabbed her keys hastily. "Oh, this'll be good. I'm going to eat enough to make up for all those free lunches he's mooched off me."

Jane grinned and caught her shoulder as she tried to pass him. "You might want to leave those here, Lisbon." Easing the harness from her shoulders, he smiled and hung the wings gently on her coat rack as Lisbon rushed from the room. One thing he'd learned early was never to stand between Teresa Lisbon and free food.

---

By October 29th, Jane was nearly giddy with excitement. He'd left the final part of Lisbon's costume in her office for her, and surely she'd have his superhero costume for him today. After all, the fliers Maggs had posted around the building said the party was for the next night, a Saturday, at a local dance club, a significant step up from the office party last year.

She'd stuck her head out of her office and grinned at him as soon as she'd gotten in, so he knew she'd found her Tinker Bell dress. He also knew she'd heaved a very large sigh of relief to find that it had been as proper as Disney made. Too bad she couldn't know how much he'd been tempted to buy the version he'd found at Lolita's Treasure Chest- for a mere $54.99, he could have laughed himself silly for a year. Unfortunately, a large portion of that year would probably have been spent in the hospital, if he knew Lisbon.

---

When Lisbon found her actual Tinker Bell costume, she'd heaved the biggest sigh of relief in her life. It covered everything it was supposed to and wasn't as short as she'd thought it'd be. Holding it up to her frame, the handkerchief hem almost touched her knees. The fact that it was a child's extra-large was kind of funny, but she was too pleased to do anything but smile.

She looked at the box she'd stuffed into her briefcase that morning and grinned. Oh yes, her plan for today was specifically designed to torture one Patrick Jane. She'd thought long and hard about this and had made sure to bring everything she'd need. She'd also made sure to change the combination lock on her briefcase the previous night- otherwise, she was sure she'd have one eager and shady consultant digging through her briefcase the moment she left her office unoccupied today.

"Ha!" she said with a self-satisfied smirk. "I've got your number, Jane."

---

Jane was crushed. He drove home in quite a snit, even yelling out his window at an old man that cut him off on the highway. All day long, he'd kept a good half of his awareness on Lisbon and where she was, how she was behaving. Other than an overall smirkiness to her all day, there'd been no indication that she'd hidden his costume.

Before he'd left for the night, he'd double-checked his desk and the area around his couch. He'd even pulled down the cardboard containers holding all of his old files from his days as a psychic. Nothing.

Even his blatant attempts to jog her memory failed. He'd asked if her costume was ready for the party, asked why she seemed so self-satisfied, even brought up random superheroes in conversation with her. Nothing. Whatever he'd thought she'd been planning had been wrong, and he was forced to admit how much his feelings were actually hurt.

He'd gone to bed in as foul a mood as he could remember.

---

At six o'clock in the morning on October 30th, just before the sky began to lighten with dawn, Lisbon flipped open her cell.

---

The incessant ringing by his ear jolted Jane out of very disjointed dreams. "'Lo?" he answered groggily, not bothering to check the caller ID.

"Jane?"

It was Lisbon. He sat up and ran a hand over his rumpled vest. It must be a case. "Where's the crime scene?" he asked, searching blindly in the darkness for his shoes.

Taking a deep breath and making sure to keep her voice even and business-like, Lisbon smiled and settled herself more comfortably on her seat. "Out in the middle of nowhere. Just meet up with the team at the office. I'm already at the scene." She smiled wickedly. "Oh, and Jane? Don't drive like an idiot to get here. No speeding."

He rolled his eyes in the darkness. "Lay off, woman. It's rude to badger me before dawn."

It only took him a few minutes to brush his teeth and get himself ready; after all, this was far from the first middle-of-the-night summons he'd received from Lisbon. But when he unlocked the door of his Citroen, he stopped cold. There was an outfit draped over his seat- a black, broad-brimmed hat, a red-lined black cape, a jaunty red scarf and a black suit.

"Who knows what evil lurks in the hearts of men?"

Jane turned slowly, finally catching sight of Lisbon in the first grey light of dawn. She'd been sitting on an overturned bucket next to his front steps. He'd walked right by her. "Good morning," he said automatically, still a little stunned. He picked up the hat. "How'd you get in my car?"

She sniffed disdainfully. "A 70s Citroen? Please, Jane, I could Slim Jim this thing in my sleep." Her eyes found his, eagerly looking for his reaction. "So what do you think?"

Studying the hat in his hands, he gave it an experimental twirl before settling it on his head at a rakish angle. Pulling out the cape, he gave it the same careful consideration before tying it over his shoulders and winding the scarf around his neck. Glancing at Lisbon, he held up the suit. It looked like it would fit.

"I snuck a peek at your jacket while you were sleeping on the couch a few weeks ago," she confessed with a small smile. "I had to guess on the pants."

"Thirty two- thirty four," he responded absently.

Suddenly, her grand plan seemed silly and strangely too intimate. Lisbon stood and stuffed her hands in her coat pockets uncomfortably. "Do you like it?" she asked, telling herself it wasn't shyness in her voice.

Closing his car door, Jane laid the suit carefully on the hood. "It's perfect," he replied solemnly. "Not the conventional choice at all. I would have thought you'd get me a Superman or an Iron Man costume, or something readily available. I can't imagine many shops carry The Shadow, at least not this century."

Lisbon smiled, relaxing slightly. "So I like old movies," she defended, voice mild. "Besides, you're not really a Superman or a Wolverine or an Iron Man. I thought the Shadow was perfect for you."

He liked that she'd put so much consideration into her choice, liked it quite a bit. "Thanks," Jane said softly, moving closer to see her face better in the weak light.

Throat suddenly dry, Lisbon swallowed convulsively. The mood wasn't what she'd expected at all. He was smiling, but it was that enigmatic little smile he wore that told her exactly nothing. No one was laughing, no one was teasing. It was strange, different and very, very unsettling as Jane advanced on her, black cape swirling around his legs and hat tilted mysteriously over one side of his face. "You're welcome," she croaked.

Jane felt the smile slide from his lips as he came to a stop in front of Lisbon. She wasn't an idiot- he could tell that she felt the unusual tension, too. Looking at her closely, he had the sudden thought that she was a creature made for the hours between dusk and dawn- the dark hair, the pale skin and subtly shaded eyes were too delicately cast for the strong light of day, an amusing contrast to her bold as noon personality. But her physical coloring was something to be appreciated in light like this, or by moonlight filtered through curtains. She was a study of nuance that only came out in the right circumstances.

He eased a step closer, tilted his head down. "You smell like cinnamon," Jane murmured, gazing at her from beneath the brim of his hat.

The air suddenly felt very, very thick in her lungs. If it was anyone else, she'd say he was about to-

He bent his head closer and let his brain go.

Kiss her. Lisbon's eyes flared, and she was shocked into immobility as Jane's lips brushed chastely against her own. It wasn't a passionate kiss, but the innocence of it felt more intimate than if he'd crushed her in his arms and explored her mouth with his tongue. It was Jane. Jane wasn't subtle, but bold, out-sized, and such a delicate kiss felt like it somehow meant more. And before she'd finished the thought, the kiss was over and he was again watching her from hooded eyes, carefully cataloguing her reactions and reading her expression.

"Thank you," he repeated softly, watching thoughts chase each other across her face.

Nodding jerkily, Lisbon took a much needed step back. "Yeah, no problem," she replied quickly, too quickly. Taking a deep breath, she nodded. "So the team is just going to meet at the club- you got a flier, right? Because I think Van Pelt put one on your desk, and-"

"Lisbon." He smiled. She was going to bolt any second. "I know where Voodoo is. I MapQuested it with Rigsby yesterday."

Fishing out her keys, Lisbon nodded again, cursing herself. A five year old could tell he'd thrown her- badly. "Okay. See you there."

Carefully collecting the suit from his car hood, Jane watched as Lisbon hurried to her battered old SUV. He smiled slightly as her tires sprayed gravel as she shifted and moved down the driveway at a speed she'd have yelled at him for. He hadn't meant to kiss her. He frowned, looking back at the house. Other than the kiss he'd pressed to Sophie's cheek, he hadn't kissed anyone since… since. It had been purely impulsive, a mindless reaction to how perfectly her costume choice had fit him- it was a choice only a woman that knew him very well, that cared what he thought, could make.

Walking back into the empty, silent house, Jane's frown deepened. Knowing himself, his goals, his utter determination to plow through anything in his way to reach those goals, he had to acknowledge that it had been a mistake. Rationally, he knew it had been a mistake on many levels.

But on one small, long-unused level, it had felt right. Perfectly so. This bore further examination, he thought, bypassing the stairs and heading for the back patio he never used.

_To Be Continued..._

* * *

*ducks the rotten tomatoes being hurled* Okay, in my defense, I had to cut the fic somewhere, and this was the best spot.

Plus, the second half is just as long, and no one wants to read a 9,000 word one-shot. Eyes would bleed, families would go unfed and I'd receive hate mail from teachers demanding to know why their favorite students failed to turn in their homework. That's right, I'm looking at you. :D (In case you lot can't tell, I'm a bit of a goofball. A/Ns are never to be taken seriously in my stories. Ever. Erm- except for this one, of course.)

In all seriousness, reviews are love. In fact, they make me giddy (and write faster). I should have the second part finished by Sunday, I think.

Hugs to you all,

MBA


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Right. SO it took me way longer than I thought to write this. The second part just didn't want to come together the way the first half did, but I'm relatively pleased with the end result.

Status update: The next 'Vermilion Revelations' chapter is about done and should get posted some time tomorrow. YukinaKid's fic is about 3/4 done, Elodie Wolfe's about 1/2, and I've ended up with two completed but totally random plot bunnies that attacked me. My promise to myself is that I'll complete what I owe everyone before I post them.

So I hope you enjoy this!

* * *

Music thumped in the background as voices and laughter rang out all around her. It was turning out to be a pretty good party- certainly better than last year's, Lisbon had to admit, even if she wasn't enjoying herself very much. She ordered another shot of Jack Daniels from the bartender. She was well on her way to the advanced buzz she intended to go home with when Cho sidled up to her. "How goes the DUI prep?"

She laughed and knocked back the shot. "I ordered a cab before I even showed up here, Cho. Don't worry." Not like he'd know that she'd rather crawl over broken glass than drive drunk; after all, she'd worked hard to conceal her past from her team. Everyone had a right to their privacy. It was one of the reasons she tried to discourage personal business being discussed at work. Lisbon snorted. Ironic, given all the personal drama that seemed to go on with her team. "And who are you supposed to be?" she asked, eyeing the costume that looked remarkably like what Cho wore every day.

Readjusting his black-frame glasses, Cho gave her a small smile. "I'm PC." At her vacant look, Cho added, "From the Mac commercials."

This was clearly a reference he expected her to know, but Lisbon was drawing a total blank, so she just nodded and watched the dancers clogging the floor.

Holding a beer casually, Cho turned and leaned against the bar next to her and studied the crowded dance floor. "I haven't seen this many dancing zombies since 'Thriller.' So where's Peter Pan?"

"I hear Captain Hook kicked his ass and dropped him over the side of his ship," she replied easily, reaching for her own beer chaser. At this rate, she figured two or three more shots and she could successfully stop thinking for the night, something she'd been trying to do since six o'clock that morning. "Have you seen Martinowicz? Her costume is hysterical."

Cho smirked. "Little Bo Peep was never meant to be a five-eleven woman built like a linebacker. Herman, Washington and DeWitt make pretty good sheep, though. They've had practice."

She patted his arm with a commiserating smile. Herman and DeWitt had been on Cho's previous team with him, and he disliked the agents immensely. She didn't know why, and didn't ask. "Check out Rigsby and Van Pelt," she said with a nod at the pack of dancers.

Grimacing, Cho turned to catch the bartender's attention. "Another MGD."

"Make that two- and another Jack," Lisbon added, slapping a twenty on the counter and avoiding the bartender's eyes. She knew he was starting to think about cutting her off. Screw him. Just because she was a 110 pound woman dressed as Tinker Bell didn't mean she couldn't hold her liquor.

Sighing, Cho flipped through his wallet. "That's twenty bucks I owe Jane," he announced morosely. "I bet him Rigsby wouldn't have the balls to ask her to dance."

Lisbon shook her head as she accepted her new beer from the bartender. "You ought to know better than to bet with Jane, Cho. You've probably spent more money paying up on these stupid wagers than you have on beer for the whole year."

"So where is the- speak of the devil. Peter Pan himself." Cho pulled a twenty from his wallet and held it over her shoulder. "Here. I'm going to find my date."

She didn't bother to turn around. The reason she was drinking could walk his butt right on away, she thought spitefully. She'd been excited about their little costume game- it had been fun, but when he'd kissed her, he'd changed everything. Now she didn't know what the hell she was doing. It felt like Patrick Jane spent his life yanking the rug out from under her.

Jane studied Lisbon's stern profile. "Shouldn't Tinker Bell be a little less standoffish?" When she snorted, he mimicked her pose and leaned on the bar, looking out at the party. "I thought you'd be having a good time. You seemed to last year."

The sigh seemed to come all the way from her toes. "I've been propositioned by exactly five men, only two of whom were sufficiently drunk to plead ignorance come Monday, two of my agents are making moon eyes at each other on the dance floor, and then there's…" She snapped her mouth shut before changing her mind and taking a long swallow of beer.

"And then there's me?" he guessed. "Nuh uh," he chided, snaking a hand out and grabbing her shot before she could take it. "I'm holding this hostage until you finish your previous statement."

Lisbon snorted. "Go right ahead. Bartender!" she called, pointing her finger at the shot and motioning for another.

Jane smiled at the man and shook his head, giving him a significant look. The fifty he was waving over Lisbon's head might have helped, too.

"Sorry, lady. You need to ease back for awhile, unless you want me to call you a cab to the hospital for a stomach pumping." The man flashed an apologetic smile. "Give it an hour to wear off a little. Can I get you a coffee?"

That was it. Lisbon marched away from the bar, the stupid bartender and Jane. Well, wiggled really, since her little fairy moccasins made a good incensed march impossible with their slippery soles. She headed straight for the dance floor, snagging a shocked RICO agent along the way. He was reasonably attractive, in a costume that wasn't trite or stupid and, most importantly, not an annoying consultant.

---

By the time she'd worked off her temper (and the majority of her buzz), Lisbon was dripping sweat on the dance floor. Her head was itching like mad under the wig, and her dance partner was long gone. She'd simply switched to a new one that had already been on the floor when her first partner had claimed heat exhaustion. Apparently the RICO boys were a bunch of punks that had no stamina. Lisbon couldn't suppress the silly little grin that thought provoked; after all, it was better she found that out here rather than after stupidly bringing him home for some good old-fashioned drunk sex. Oh well. That would have been a monumentally bad choice anyway.

As the Latin beat thumped, she started looking around. Rigsby and Van Pelt were no longer on the floor, but Cho was doing a very impressive salsa with an even more impressive blonde. The woman was gorgeous. Seriously- who had thighs like that? Lisbon ran religiously five times a week and still had little fat dimples on the backs of her thighs. Genetics really sucked sometimes.

Flashing a brief smile at her partner, who wasn't a bad dancer himself, she looked for and found Jane, who was sitting at a table by himself with a shot glass, a beer and a bottle of water. He waved at her with a grin, his hat tilted over one eye. How he managed to look cool with a suit, a cape, a scarf and a hat in this heat was beyond her. "Hey! Watch your hands!"

Her partner grinned flirtatiously. "Aw, come on, Lisbon. You can't blame me. You look hot tonight."

She certainly could blame him. She looked harder at his face, trying to place him, namely so she could make his life hell after this. "Lopez, right?"

He nodded and corralled her in closer so that their bodies were pressed together. "Yeah, Niko Lopez, from Internal Affairs." He looked delighted that she knew him. "Want to take a break, maybe sit down?"

"Yeah." She stabbed a thumb into the pressure point on his wrist. "I do. Without you. And if you put your hands on me again after I tell you not to, I'm going to do a lot worse." Stomping off felt cathartic and, without realizing it, she stomped right to Jane's table. "Mind if I sit?" Lisbon growled.

Sweeping a hand out with his smile still in place, he pushed the bottle of water over to her. "Have fun?"

Oh God, the cold water felt good as she chugged it. She pulled the wig off and scratched her head with a relieved sigh. "Loads."

Jane studied her with an amused grin. She was at her prickly best tonight, and he couldn't resist poking at her. "Why the mood, Lisbon? It's a party. You should be happy, not ready to bite the head off of anyone that catches your fancy." He took a sip of his beer and waited out her annoyed glare.

"You know exactly why I'm in a bad mood, Jane." The pain in the ass was simply looking at her, clearly refusing to read the neon sign over her head that said, 'Leave me alone to drink and stew in peace!' Lisbon stole his shot without remorse. "Gah!" she gasped, fanning her face. "What was that?" Her throat felt like an inferno.

"Bourbon," he informed her with great amusement. Her face was roughly the color of a stoplight and her eyes were watering. "The bartender didn't have any more clean tumblers, so I took it in a shot glass. I find it tastes better if you sip it."

She choked and gasped for another few seconds. It hurt to even breathe.

Jane folded his hands on the table and figured a speechless Lisbon was the perfect one to needle about the kiss. "Don't fret so, Lisbon, I think it was a mistake, too. Besides, it was only a kiss. It's not like we slept together or anything of the sort."

Her eyes rounded in alarm, but she was still breathless from the rotgut she'd just pounded.

Jane continued while he could. She'd regain her voice any moment. "A kiss between friends can be ignored. Sex would be a little harder, but I'm sure it's possible. Don't worry, though- I'm perfectly capable of denying the attraction if you are. But if you change your mind, I'm willing to reexamine the issue." The smile on his lips was perfectly bland, but his eyes sparkled.

"Grawgh," she sputtered, reaching across the table to take a swipe at him. Stupid man. He was actually enjoying this. She wasn't sure whether she wanted to die of embarrassment or locate a good, remote hiding place for his body. "I… hate… you," she said slowly, forcing the words out around her still burning tongue. "You're… the one… that started it!"

His lips quirked. "You certainly weren't protesting, Lisbon." Jane paused, brow furrowed thoughtfully. "Does this mean I can call you Teresa? I mean, kissing a woman ought to afford a man first name privileges, shouldn't it?"

She wanted to shove him right off his stool, the arrogant idiot. "It was barely even a kiss," she protested angrily. "You can't make me embarrassed about a kiss _you_ initiated."

Jane removed his hat carefully and leaned forward until he could practically see each individual sweat bead on her face. "Why would I want to embarrass you?" he asked honestly. "A little gentle teasing about a chaste, heartfelt kiss shouldn't embarrass you. Unless you have deeper emotions regarding me, in which case I recommend you remember that I am very often a conceited ass that drives you insane. We are not very well-suited to a casual sexual relationship."

For someone that spent as much time as she did around Jane, whose expertise was in spouting unsettling half-truths, Lisbon should have been more prepared for something like that. Instead, she stared at him for a beat before taking his beer and walking away.

He let her go. After five years of incurring Teresa Lisbon's wrath, Jane knew precisely where he was on the Lisbon Scale of Pissiness™. At the moment, he was teetering between 'Ignore Until Exhausted or Otherwise Occupied' and 'Stay Angry at for Twenty-Four Hours Regardless of Circumstances,' and he really, really wanted to continue their discussion tonight. On the bright side, he did see her get another bottle of water from the bartender. His plan would progress much more smoothly if she stayed sober.

Patrick Jane was put on earth to torture her. Lisbon was sure of it. God had a decidedly warped sense of humor. Determined not to let the consultant ruin what was left of the party for her, Lisbon went in search of Maggs. He always could cheer her up; after all, anyone ballsy enough to dress up as Virgil Minelli and bark ridiculous orders at people was man enough to handle her foul mood, a mood that would have declined even further if she'd noticed said consultant was keeping tabs on her from afar.

---

Exactly two hours and thirteen minutes later, Jane stood with a triumphant grin. It was finally time to put his plan in motion.

---

Lisbon hurried from the front door of Voodoo to the waiting cab out front; the night was surprisingly chilly. Suppressing a shiver as she yanked the taxi door open, Lisbon had to acknowledge the irony with a grin. The coldest night of the year, and she was out traipsing about in a minidress.

"Where to?" the driver asked disinterestedly.

Man, she wished she'd brought a coat. "2193 Fischer Lane. I called for this cab earli-"

"Have room for two?" Jane slid into the backseat next to her, teeth flashing in a grin.

"No." She pursed her lips and stared pointedly at him.

The cabbie looked back and forth between them in the rearview mirror. "Alright, lady, what are we doing here? 'Cuz right now we're sitting here on your dime."

See? God. Warped humor, Lisbon thought. "Why are you doing this?" she sighed.

Jane sat back with a beatific smile. "To quote Rigsby, I'm stalking you like a chicken."

"Uh… okay. I'm pretty sure I don't want to know what that means." Rapping the plastic divider with her knuckles, Lisbon sighed. "Just take me home." She turned a forbidding frown on Jane. "No funny business, you. Whatever you're plotting -and we both know you are, so don't deny it- you have until the cab drops me off. If you get out of the cab to try to continue whatever hare-brained scheme you're cooking up, I'm going to punch you in the stomach."

Jane put a hand on his chest, his face the picture of injured feelings. "You would hit me?"

"In a second," she confirmed archly. "Besides, you deserve it."

"Because of a single kiss," he said evenly.

Lisbon nodded.

Jane grinned. "Ah. You're not angry about the kiss- you're angry that you can't rationalize how that fits into your view of our relationship." He leaned forward, untying his cape and shimmying out of it until he could lay it across Lisbon's lap. "You look chilled," he explained.

Taking the cape, Lisbon frowned at him. "For someone that professes to hate psychology, you sure do get a kick out of practicing it on everyone else."

"I thought you'd shun the cape out of spite." He tucked the heavy material more firmly around one of her shoulders.

"Nah, I'm too practical," she denied. "It's warm and big enough to wrap around me. I'd have to be a lot more angry with you to turn down the cape."

"So you're not angry with me," he clarified.

"That's not what I said. I said I'd have to be a lot more angry."

"Implying that you're not very angry now."

"What a stupid-assed argument," the cabbie sighed, just loud enough to be heard.

"I agree," Jane said, his smile growing. "She's really just angry that I've done something she's not sure how to respond to. I've altered the status of our relationship and shaken the proverbial ground under her feet."

So that was his plan- to corner her in a moving vehicle and taunt her until she fantasized about sticking her hand down his throat and ripping out his vocal cords? "Can you not discuss this with the cab driver?" Lisbon hissed, cheeks pinking. She determinedly turned to look out into the darkness.

"Oh, I'm sure he's heard worse," Jane scoffed. "Haven't you seen Taxicab Confessions? Cabbies hear all manner of salacious things. A little kiss is barely a blip on his radar."

"Boyfriend's right," the driver confessed, merging onto the off-ramp. "Just last week I had a woman try to push her husband out through the window. That was a pretty interesting one. Said he was cheating on her with her sister." His gaze flickered towards Lisbon in the rearview mirror. "That what this one did to you? Cheated? 'Cuz I wouldn't take him back. Looks too smooth to be trustworthy. It always starts with one little kiss, honey. Mark my words- next thing you know, he'll be banging her in your bed."

The urge to simply open the door and fling herself out at the next stoplight was overwhelming. If it was ten degrees warmer, she might have tried it. "He's not my boyfriend," Lisbon mumbled.

Jane was all sparkling eyes and toothy grin. "Now don't be that way, darling," he practically cooed at her. He was taking entirely too much joy out of this conversation, but the chance to really tweak Lisbon's chain came about so rarely.

The smooth glide of the taxi pulling up to the curb was a blessing, and Lisbon sighed in relief as she undid her seatbelt and grabbed her small purse, thrusting the twenty through the money slot in the window. "Thanks. Keep the change." She tapped her foot for a moment, undecided as to what to do. Blowing the bangs of her blonde wig out of her eyes, she gave Jane a little nod. "Night."

"Now that's cowardice," Jane declared, clambering out of his side of the cab, the chill night breeze ruffling his hair as he faced her over the roof of the sedan. "You're still angry with me. I don't want you to be angry with me, Lisbon. Not over this. It's silly."

The urge to run, to leave this very awkward conversation in the dust, thrummed in Lisbon's veins. "I can't help how I feel," she replied quietly. "It was so far beyond a bad idea that it's in a different time zone."

"It's not- hold on." He stuck his head back into the cab for a moment. "Where was I? Oh yes. If it's such a horrific idea, why do you keep looking the other way with Rigsby and Van Pelt? Surely your vaunted logic of professionalism should be consistent across the board." Stepping back, he waved as the cab pulled away.

Lisbon watched the cab's taillights in a daze. He'd sent it away. After she'd expressly told him she'd kick his ass if he tried to pull his scheme beyond the car ride. She blinked and marched right up to him, pulling back one hand as she went.

"Ow!" he yelped, cupping his ribs as he leapt back. Tinker Bell was rubbing her knuckles absently and eyeing him like she was considering taking a second swing.

"You never listen," Lisbon muttered severely, advancing on him as he backed up towards her front door. "I told you. I warned you what would happen if you ignored me. I explained -very explicitly- that I was going to slug you if you tried to pull one of your stunts, Jane, but here we are, at my place with no cab in sight. And if you think I'm going to drive you back to the club, or even call you another cab, you're nuttier than I think you are. As far as I'm concerned, you can sit out here in the cold and use your cell phone and pray to God that one of the cab companies is still taking unscheduled fares at this hour."

She sounded serious. Maybe this hadn't been one of his better plans, Jane thought suddenly, sidestepping another swing at his ribs from Lisbon. On the bright side, she wasn't actually trying to do him any damage. The one fist she'd landed had barely stung, but he figured she'd hit harder if she knew how little pain she'd caused on the first try. "Would an apology help?" he asked, stepping back again and nearly stumbled into her small front garden for the effort.

"No."

He blinked. "Lisbon, be reasonable. I'm-"

"Be reasonable?" she repeated shrilly. "Reasonable? Jane, you kissed me, manipulated me all night at the party, hijacked my cab and got out at my house -against my orders- before sending the cab away." She flung her hands about, gesticulating wildly to punctuate her point. "And you want _me_ to be reasonable?"

Well, sure, when she said it like that, it did sound a little scheming on his part. He decided to go on the offensive before she really got up a head of steam and tried to do something unfortunate, like never speak to him again. Or request he be moved off her team. Jane shuddered. He did _not_ want to go back to Agent Jackson's team. Ever. "I'm sorry you feel uncomfortable. Would you feel better if I let you kiss me by surprise?"

She rolled her eyes, arms folded over her chest. "It's hardly a surprise if you give someone permission, Jane. And no, that's not going to fix this. Why on earth would you kiss me?"

"Good God, woman, don't overanalyze it. It was just a kiss- a friendly, innocent kiss. You did something that touched me, and I responded in a completely commensurate manner."

Lisbon snorted. "Uh huh. And who else have you kissed in, say, the last three years?"

The woman was infuriatingly stubborn sometimes, Jane thought with a frown. "That's not the point, Lisbon. You're angry that the decision wasn't yours to make. You're so used to being the decision maker in your life that you don't allow men to take that control away from you."

"Excuse me?" Blood was pounding in her ears. How dare he try to read her like that? "My love life is none of your concern, Jane."

If anyone looked out their windows at the ruckus, Jane was certain they'd think they were hallucinating. After all, Tinker Bell glowering and shouting at a mysterious caped man in a dashing scarf and hat was unusual. He laughed derisively. "You don't have a love life, Lisbon. You have men that you randomly decide to let service you when the mood strikes. You're a control freak. A friendly little kiss shouldn't be such a big deal for you."

She thought about flinging her little handbag at his head, but didn't want to have to go looking for her things after they flew out. Instead, she settled for stepping close enough to poke him hard in the chest. "You're calling _me_ a control freak? Me? Because that is the most ironic strategy you could possibly pick, Jane." Lisbon shook her head and tried to step around him for the front door, searching for her house keys with one hand. This argument was done. She was tired and cold. "He ignores every little direction he's ever received, including 'stay in the cab,' and _I'm_ the control freak. Hmph."

The instant she dismissed him was like a hot poker in his back- Jane reached out, plucked her purse from her hand and tossed it carelessly over his shoulder. "I believe we were talking, Lisbon."

"'Were' being the operative term, Jane," she shot back with a dirty look. "What do I have to say to get you to call a cab and leave? You can't tell me your great plan was to come here and pick a fight with me."

Sighing, Jane tilted his head back to look at the stars. No, that had not been his plan at all, but Lisbon had been intent on being mulish and unmovable from her position. "I came here to prove to you that the kiss didn't have to be a mistake, and that it wouldn't alter a single thing in our professional relationship."

"Right, because you barely listen to me now. Any further erosion of my authority over you would be barely noticeable," she snapped. "Jane, if you're ready to start pursuing women again, good for you- I'm happy for you. But I'm your boss, and I'm cold and tired. End of story." Lisbon rubbed one eye in frustration. "Goodnight."

He rested a hand on one of her shoulders. "Fine, just listen to me. One little thing, Lisbon. Okay?" He stooped a little, trying to catch and hold her gaze. "You do one tiny little thing, middling really, and I'll call a cab, go home, and pretend none of this ever happened." Jane smiled encouragingly at her. After all, that was exactly what Lisbon said she wanted. "All right?"

Five years with Jane made anyone suspicious. "What little thing are we talking here?"

Eying her, Jane slipped his hands into his pockets, rocking back on his heels and giving her his very best innocent face. "Tiny thing, really. I'm willing to discard my theory, Lisbon, but I need proof, you understand." When a frustrated little growl trickled from her mouth, he grinned at her, teeth very white in the moonlight. "Scientific inquiry, Lisbon. I think you should kiss me; a real, honest-to-God kiss." His smile widened. "Really put your all into it, so to speak."

By now, nothing Jane did or said really shocked her. That, though… that was shocking. She goggled at him. "You want me to _what_?" she squeaked.

"Kiss me," he repeated, enthusiasm wreathing his face. "I've thought about this- we're particularly well-suited."

Lisbon blinked, slowly shook her head, and turned to open her door before recalling her purse and keys lay somewhere beyond Jane. "You said you were a conceited ass and we weren't suited to a casual… relationship."

He grinned. "I am a conceited ass, Lisbon. I acknowledge my faults. And I said we were poorly-suited to a casual _sexual_ relationship, actually." Jane almost laughed out loud at the confounded look on Lisbon's face. "I lied, of course. If it will make you feel better, think of it as an experiment, Lisbon. If I'm wrong, no harm done, right?"

"You're trying to talk me into kissing you," Lisbon repeated, not entirely sure she hadn't stumbled into some bizarre alternate reality. "Because you think it's a good idea." At his nod, she threw her hands up in defeat. "And if I do- _if_, mind you- you promise you'll go away and never _ever_ mention this ever again?"

Jane nodded solemnly. "Cross my heart," he swore. He had her. She'd cave any second now.

"And you swear?"

"Yes."

Not entirely certain her brains hadn't leaked out of her skull, Lisbon bobbed her head. "Fine." It was now or never, and she didn't want to acknowledge that there was a very, very tiny part of her that might possibly be excited. The longer she took, the more that very, very tiny part began to flutter and pulse in her belly. Damn it. She leaned up on tip toe and grabbed Jane's chin, trying to ignore the feel of the stubble on his jaw rasping against her hands, sending little shocks of electricity up her arms. "You asked for it."

Indeed he had. Jane had spent several long hours that morning on his back patio contemplating this very situation. He'd come to three very simple conclusions:

He and Lisbon had latent chemistry. They had entire conversations with eyebrows and the looks in their eyes.

He trusted her. If he was going to make a potentially disastrous attempt at being with a woman for the first time since… since, he'd rather it be with someone he trusted implicitly.

She was attracted to him. For all the fuss she'd kicked up about the undergarments, he knew without a doubt she was wearing them. On some level, Lisbon was willing to give up some control if a man strong-willed enough to wrench the reins away from her came along. They could alternate control issues. It would be like therapy, and if anyone could separate sex from the office, it was Lisbon.

Therapeutic sex. Now there was an idea a man could get behind, Jane thought wryly as Lisbon grabbed his face. A few seconds later, he wasn't thinking much of anything at all.

She wasn't pulling any punches. Lisbon tangled one hand in the curls at the nape of his neck, the other holding his jaw like a lifeline as she kissed him for all she was worth. Nipping at his lower lip, she soothed the slight pain she'd caused with her tongue, alternately demanding and coaxing him to open his mouth. When he finally did, she dared him with darting tongue to come out and play, to duel with her.

Well. He'd asked for it, but Jane really couldn't complain. Lisbon was a surprisingly sensual kisser, using lips, tongue and teeth with expert administration. That thing she'd done with her teeth and his lower lip had actually made him shiver, and he wasn't sure precisely when his hands had moved to crush her into his chest.

The heat of his body was all that the little electric current in her belly needed to ignite into a full-on blaze. Lisbon wound her arms around his neck and sucked his tongue into her mouth, demanding he respond. He wanted her full effort, and he was going to get it.

Ten minutes later, Jane broke away reluctantly. Very reluctantly. "So?" he asked, voice husky and hair a mess from her roaming hands. His hat and scarf had been relegated to the garden, joining her purse and keys.

Shit. That had gotten way, way out of control. Lisbon frowned, tugging the top of her dress back up. She wasn't sure when his hand had made it down the neckline of her dress, but she was sure that the man did, in fact, have ridiculously nimble fingers. Talented, nimble fingers, at that. She wrinkled her nose in thought.

Jane waited. He knew he'd been right. She'd be inviting him in any moment now. And three…

Two…

One…

"Do you want to come in?" Lisbon knew exactly what he thought she was asking, could tell just by the wicked, self-satisfied smirk stretching across his now-swollen lips. His giant ego had him thinking he'd landed a place in her bed that easily. Well he had another thing coming. She let her eyes wander down his body suggestively. "Have some coffee?"

Jane knew she was planning something, could tell just by the mischievous glint in her eyes. The woman was planning on stomping all over his ego, he could tell. He'd be lucky to leave with his self image intact. He grinned back. "Sure. Why not?"

---

The teenage couple sitting on the other side of the boxwood hedge sighed in relief when the door closed. "I thought they'd never go inside," the boy whispered to his girlfriend. He'd been trying to help her sneak back into her parents' place when her neighbor showed up and had some weird argument with the dude in the cape and hat.

The girl giggled. "I don't know, I think they're kind of cute together," she whispered back, reaching up to grasp her windowsill. "Come on, Jimmy, give me a leg up here. My dad's gonna freak if I'm not asleep in bed when he leaves for work at four."

A crash came from the house next door, startling the kids badly, but it was the laughter that followed that had them both wondering what was going on in there. Whatever it was, it sounded like they were having a good time.

_The End_

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A/N: Yay? Boo? Let me know what y'all thought.

Hugs,

MBA


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